


Missed you

by belle1316



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle1316/pseuds/belle1316
Summary: Arya and Gendry after the Battle of Winterfell.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 32
Kudos: 346





	1. Chapter 1

It comes to him in flashes. As hundreds of cold, dead hands grasp violently at him, he thinks of her.

Her eyes that remind him of melted steel as it pours into molds. Her chestnut brown hair falling just past her shoulders. He thought her hair had been darker but then they were covered in layers of dirt the last time he saw her before.

The mountain of bodies he stands upon grows; he can vaguely register Tormund next to him slashing away. There’s a pause where he can breathe right before the next wave of wights makes their way up and in that brief second, he swears he sees her on the roof, scrambling through a window with a line of them on her tail. He growls and brings his hammer down just as a wight scratches at his leg.

It felt so fucking good when she scratched at his shoulders as he thrust inside her tight warmth. Her skin was so soft. Her voice like velvet whispering in his ear to fuck her harder.

The silence hung heavy in the cold, dry air when the last of the dead fell. Tormund’s roar of victory tore through the night and Gendry fell to his knees. He climbed down from the pile of bodies, looking around at the courtyard. He recognized the commander of the Dragon Queen’s army running towards a woman, the Queen’s advisor, and taking her in his arms. Gendry’s heart ached.

“I missed you,” he said after he covered her with his cloak. She smirked at him but did not reply.

“You could admit it, you know,” He told her, falling back to rest his head against the grain sacks.

“Admit what?”

“That you missed me too.”

Arya scoffed. “Stupid bull.”

Gendry grunted as he laid another injured man down on a cot in the Great Hall of Winterfell.

“Sansa!”

Gendry whipped around at the sound of Jon’s voice. His heart dropped.

In his friend’s arms was the only woman he had ever loved, bloody and unconscious. Jon rushed towards his red-headed sister desperately with their younger brother following in his chair.

“I think it’s her head.” Jon gasped as he laid her down on a cot across the aisle.

“She’s the one who ended it, she just collapsed afterward.”

As her sister and younger brother began wiping blood off, Jon looked around wildly before his eyes landed on him.

“Gendry,” he breathed rushing forward. Gendry forced his eyes to leave her small figure.

“Have you seen Sam?” Jon asked, placing a hand on Gendry’s shoulder. He shook his head.

“Are you hurt badly?”

Gendry shook his head again.

“The hall is going to fill up quickly if you see Sam send him this way and start clearing out some space for the injured. We’ll tend to the dead later.”

“Jon,” his sister called out. “Help me get her to her room.”

Gendry stayed for a moment watching as three of the remaining Starks rushed out with their sister and savior.

Davos made him take a break hours later. He found himself wandering into the forge and then back out, to the side, where he had spent the greatest time of his life. He numbly cleared out two dead bodies and laid back on the grain sacks. He looked up at the roof where streams of light shone through.

The moonlight breaking through the cracks in the roof shone on her as she moved above him, lips parted, head tossed back, breasts bouncing slightly. So beautiful and free.

The next day, Gendry had continued with other able-bodied men to search for missing and injured who may have been buried under bodies or rubble.

“Gendry,”

He turned to see the tall blonde woman he had caught a glimpse of in the yard and with the Starks. He bowed his head in respect. If he remembered correctly, she was a lady, like Arya.

“Lady Arya Stark requests your presence in her chambers.”

Gendry felt both relief and worry. Arya was well enough to make demands but perhaps not enough to come and see him herself. He followed the woman clad in armor through Winterfell until they reached a large hallway. She stopped in front of two large wooden doors engraved with dire wolves. She gestured from him to proceed and promptly turned away. Before he could open the door, Lady Sansa stepped out. Gendry gulped. He had only had very limited interactions with the head Lady of Winterfell other than passing acknowledgments.

She studied him with a stern expression before sighing.

“She needs rest.” She said, simply and turned down the hall leaving the door ajar. Gendry straightened his shoulders. Arya’s sister must have been thinking of how scandalous a low-born bastard blacksmith entering a high lady’s room. But he cared little for propriety. He threw that care to the wind as soon as he saw Arya for the first time in years.

Closing the door behind him, Gendry took in the room. It was quiet. There was a fire roaring at the far end with an ornate empty chair placed sat in front of it. A large wardrobe stood along the wall with a few chests stacked next to it. A table was in the middle of the room with various items strewn about it. More chairs, another smaller table against a wall by the door with bowls and cups, and a bench up against the bed where Arya slept soundly.

She looked small, pale. Gendry took a step further into the room. Her face was bruised. Gendry felt anger build up inside at the thought of whoever… or whatever caused those bruises. He wished he could have smashed his hammer through a thousand more of those walking corpses.

Gendry looked about, deciding on whether he should leave or stay. She asked for him. Gendry made his way to the chair beside the bed.

“Gods, you walk like an elephant.”

Her voice startled him for a moment. Her eyes were still closed, a serene look on her face.

“Have you ever even seen an elephant?” He asked, sitting down, feeling his muscles relax.

“No,” she whispered, tilting her head revealing more bruises on her neck. It looked as if someone had choked her. She shouldn’t be talking. Gendry sunk further into the chair.

They stayed in comfortable silence for quite some time. Gendry was beginning to doze off.

“Have you eaten?”

Gendry looked to her sleepily to see she was had sat up in bed.

“There’s fruit on the table.”

Gendry glanced at the table in the center of the room but when he shifted his muscles cried out, and he decided it was too far.

“Not hungry,”

“Liar,” she glared at him.

“Not hungry enough to get off my ass,”

She huffed, crossing her arms.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing serious. A few cuts and bruises. Tired mostly. You?”

“Everything hurts, but I’m not dying.”

“Good,” he then quickly added. “That you’re not dying, I mean.”

They sat there in silence once more. Gendry began to drift off to sleep again.

“I missed you too.”

Gendry smiled, “I know. Now shut up, your voice sounds like shit.”

“We both know I don’t know how to do that.”

“Yeah,”

“Come over here,” she said, lifting the covers.

“That might be testing things too much. Your sister could come back or worse your brother and- “

“Just get in here. I’m cold,”

Gendry grunted as he shifted from the chair to the bed. He struggled to kick off his boots and one ended up across the room. He blew out a breath as slowly laid back, relaxing once his head hit the soft pillow.

“This is the first time I’ve been in a featherbed.” He mused.

Arya laid down beside him on her side. “It is nicer than the ground.”

“Grain sacks are pretty comfortable though,” Gendry smirked. Arya propped herself up on her elbow. For a moment, he thought she would hit him. Instead, she turned his head towards hers and kissed him lightly. Her kiss was sweet. Not the fiery, intense passion they shared just a few nights before, the kind that shy young lovers would steal during their courtship. The kind that Gendry could have only dreamed of sharing with her before.

_You won’t be stealing no kisses from a princess._

He hadn’t stolen anything, but she had given him so much.

“Sleep, stupid.” She said gently as their lips parted. Gendry tried to keep his eyes open, but her command must have been powerful. The last thing he was aware of, was her head on his chest and the feel of her hair on his fingers before he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Ch. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry continue their relationship after the battle and Gendry reflects on his position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a filler, to be honest. I really just wanted to get inside of Gendry's head before the feast.

Gendry reached for the headboard above Arya’s head as he pushed inside of her with a groan.

“Fuck, Arya.”

Arya wrapped her arms around his neck bringing him down to meet her lips. Her hips matching his movements as he thrust inside her tight heat. Their bodies had been made for each other he was sure.

The way they fucked made him think back to their time on the King’s road. How they could communicate and work together. Their eyes would meet, their clothes would disappear, and they’d take each other to new realms of pleasure. It was all instinct. They didn’t need to speak although they seemed to enjoy spurring each other on with words.

“Yes, Gendry! Oh, Gods right there.” She called out as she threw her leg over his shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside her. She clawed at his back as she came, and he followed biting on her shoulder. She whimpered as he rolled off her and they laid there panting, looking up at the ceiling of Arya’s room.

“How can you get your leg back like that?” He asked when he finally caught his breath and his heart began to calm.

“I can do that with both.” She shrugged, “I am very flexible.”

Gendry laughed. He rolled on

“Fuck, I think I’m in love.”

Arya sat up and started brushing the tangles he put there out of her hair with her fingers.

“Think about it again when the blood goes back to your brain.”

She rose from the bed and Gendry admired her naked body as she walked across the room to a trunk that held her clothes. He groaned as she bent over to reach inside and gather clothing for the day.

Arya scoffed, “As much fun as it would be giving you a show all day, I have things to do and so do you.”

She bent over again and threw his breeches at him. He got out of bed and yanked them on.

“What are you doing today?”

“More funeral arrangements and war councils. I wish they would just let me sneak in King’s Landing and finish Cersei off and that would be it. But no, the Dragon Queen wants to conquer, make a statement.”

“What statement would that be?” Gendry sat back on the bed.

She shrugged, fastening the belt on her tunic. “Anyway, after that I’ll just make some rounds around the yard.”

“I’m glad I’ve been able to stay out of the war councils.”

“How have you? You’re in charge of the weapons and you were one of Jon’s men at Eastwatch.”

“And a baseborn, bastard from Fleabottom. I haven’t been knighted or anything so there is no room for me. Besides, Davos says I should stay away from the Dragon Queen with my Baratheon blood.”

“Wise.” Arya went to him and stood between his legs. He placed his hands on her hips. “Targaryens and Baratheons don’t mix.”

“What about Baratheons and Starks?” Gendry asked bringing her closer and pressing a kiss on her neck.

“Well, our fathers got along.”

“Mhmm,” he brought her down on his lap.

“And you get along with Jon.”

Gendry pulled away, “Until he finds out where I’ve been spending my nights.”

“Please, I love him but he’s oblivious.”

“Still, you’re his sister. If he finds out- “

“Let me worry about that.” She kissed him quickly before getting off his lap. “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since the battle. It felt strange to think with such horror around them, but it had been the best two weeks of his life.

Pyres had been built and the dead were being placed upon them for a grand funeral that would be held when it was all done. Gendry’s minor injuries had healed. His bruises were almost faded, and his soreness came from his long days of manual labor or moving bodies or helping rebuild.

Now he stood on the roof of the bakery with the Hound and a few others, patching up holes. Later he would have to mend some shopkeepers’ gate.

“Lady Stark!”

Gendry glanced up to see a small group of children rushing towards Arya who appeared to be making her rounds of handing out food to the workers, along with another northern lady, Lady Rod or Read. The children surrounded her cheerfully. The smallest one, a little girl with muddy brown hair handed her a blue rose, which Arya took gracefully.

“Can you keep your eyes off her for a bloody minute, you cunt? We have work to do you can’t be lusting after the wolf bitch.”

Gendry glared at the Hound’s scarred face.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be talkin’ bout her like that.”

“I’ll talk how I want and that’s what she is,” he sneered. “A wolf bitch in heat, both of you fucking animals following each other about.”

“That’s none of your business, is it?” He shot back.

“She’s a fucking princess and she killed the damn Night King. What she does is everyone’s business, whether she likes it or not.”

“She was a princess when Jon was King. Now the Dragon Queen- “

“If you pick your head up from between little Stark’s legs long enough, you’d notice that these Northerners don’t want the Dragon Queen. They’re loyal to the Starks.”

Gendry looked back down at where Arya stood. She was crouched down, holding two little girl’s hands against her knees. The children around her listened intently, focused on every word that passed her lips. Then Gendry noticed the adults, gathering around, gazing at her fondly as she interacted with the children. It truly dawned on him then what everyone else saw when they looked at her. The youngest daughter of the late, honored, and revered Lord Eddard Stark, sister to two Kings of the North, princess, Lady of Winterfell, and Bringer of the Dawn.

Gendry felt a lump lodged itself in his throat. He felt so confidant in his relationship with her. When he saw her again with the knowledge that he had noble blood and that she wanted him as he wanted her, he thought that would be enough.

Looking at her now, as a crowd of children and grown people gazed upon her as their savior and their leader, Gendry questioned if he would ever be enough.


	3. Ch. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry reflects on what happened after the proposal and finds out that Arya has left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got angsty. Sticking with the proposal but changing things up afterward to fill in some gaps and end things better.

_I’m such a damn fool. A fucking idiot. A twat, just like Clegane says._

Gendry cursed himself as he woke up alone in his bed alone for the first time in weeks. It was all his damn fault.

_“That’s not me,”_

Gendry stood there for a moment as Arya turned away from her raising her bow once more. She held her position longer than was needed to aim and he stood there looking at the back of her head in confusion and then in anger. She released her arrow and Gendry found his voice once more.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?”

Arya lowered her bow and faced him again. “What?”

Gendry straightened his shoulders.

“On the road when we were younger. I was just some common person and you were highborn. Now, I’m a lord. I am going to be the head of a house. I’ll have Storm’s End; I can take care of you.”

Arya’s eyes softened, a vision that both weakened Gendry’s heart and infuriated him more.

“I don’t want to be taken care of, Gendry.”

“Then what?” He asked, throwing his hands up. “What do you want?”

“The same thing I’ve always wanted. I want to finish my list.”

Oh, yes. He remembered her list. He used to fall asleep to her whispering it. But she never talked about it. He knew what it was, but it was not what they talked about. Those days on the road. The stories she used to tell to make the days go by.

“No, the girl I knew wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her family.”

“That was before. Things are different. If I’m going to have any peace, I need to finish my list.”

“Fine, then. Let’s go. Let’s go to King’s Landing.”

Arya shook her head. “You can’t come with me.”

“Why? “Gendry grunted, exasperated.

“Do you really think I could kill Cersei Lannister and live to tell about it?”

The air left Gendry’s lungs as the meaning of her words overcame him.

“You think you’re going to die,” Gendry said. Arya held her head high, eyes mournful. “You want to die.”

“I just don’t see another ending.”

Gendry growled. Anger came over him at the realization that Arya was planning to end everything, including her own life.

“So, fucking stupid!” He yelled. “What was the point then, huh? Why did you spend time with me, why did you let me think we had a chance, why did you let me fall in love with you?”

“I didn’t know,” she said quietly.

“Yes, you did.”

Her eyes became glassy. Gendry was almost satisfied. He was almost satisfied that he could get a reaction from her.

“I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t- “

“So, you thought you could just go out killing everything, and then when you’re gone, what? You didn’t think about what would happen after you die. You didn’t think about Jon or your sister or me.”

She stomped her foot and whined with a broken voice. “You’ll all be fine.”

“Fuck that, Arya.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Gendry.”

Gendry shouted louder.

“You’re fucking right. I don’t understand. I never will. Because I love you and I know you love me, so I don’t understand why you’re giving up.”

“I’m sorry.”

His throat began to close. The tears in his eyes burning and blurring his vision.

“I can’t, I can’t even look at you.” He turned and walked away, only vaguely hearing her say his name.

“Gendry.”

* * *

He banged his head back against the wall, reliving the night before. He had been on a high after the Dragon Queen legitimized him. Finally, he would be on equal footing with Arya and all objections to their marriage would be void. He was stupid to think that was all she wanted, that his lordship would just tidy everything up all pretty. He knew. He knew that didn’t matter to Arya. He knew that she loved him. But the conversation that happened right after her rejection tore him apart. He would stand there and be rejected by her a thousand times. He would live the same moment of her telling him no over and over. He would relive the heartbreak and the confusion for eternity as it was nothing compared to the knowledge he gained after. Her plan to ride to King’s Landing and-

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to shake the vision of her killing Cersei only to have her head sliced off her body moments after.

He couldn’t let her do it. He had to find her. The sun was barely coming up, he could find her before she left.

With a sober determination, Gendry raced through the grounds of Winterfell to Arya’s room.

He threw open the doors to her room, hoping to see her. Ready to tell her he would follow her into death.

He only found Lady Sansa, sitting at the table in the center of the room brushing her fingers over a piece of paper.

“My Lady,” he bowed. “I was just looking for- “

“She’s not here.”

“Oh,” Gendry nodded, ready to head for the stables or the yard, thinking of all the places she could be.

“She’s gone.”

Gendry blinked. She’s gone. She left already. He was too late.

“She left this. She mentions you.” Lady Sansa's voice cracked as if she had been crying, but her face was blank as she lifted the piece of paper, she had been touching out to him.

Gendry stepped forward and took it. He learned to read from various teachers. In his apprenticeship, the basic letters to understand orders. From Davos during the time they traveled. From Arya on the King’s road, drawing letters in the dirt with sticks. She taught him the basics he already knew, but she was so excited to teach him something, he didn’t say anything.

Gendry read the letter.

_Sansa,_

_I left during the night to King’s Landing. I want to make it there before the Dragon Queen does. I think it should be one of us who takes Cersei’s life, don’t you? We suffered more than her at the hands of Cersei. I wish you could be there by my side to watch the life leave her eyes, but Winterfell and the North needs you. There is a large possibility that we will never see each other again and for that I’m sorry. I want to thank you for everything and have every faith that the North will be safe and flourish with you as its protector._

_Don’t go out of your way to tell Jon. He has enough on his plate. Besides, he hasn’t really noticed me much, has he? It felt so different. But then we both changed so much, and he has different priorities. If he does ask, tell him I love him._

_Bran knows everything so…_

_If you can make your way to the forge, tell Gendry that I’m sorry for the way we left things. I suppose what I’m doing may seem cowardly, but I really do think it’s best. Tell him that he was right. I do love him and that’s why I couldn’t bring him with me. It’s why I had to say no. In another life, I would have given anything to be his family. Tell him he was the first and only man I have ever and will ever love, until the end of my days. I know he will be the best lord and I hope he finds happiness._

_Please do this for me, sister. Winter is not yet over and the North has to thrive._

_I’ll pray to the Old Gods for the first time in years to keep you safe._

_Arya._

“You made her happy. I could tell when she thought of you. She’d blush. Arya didn’t blush but she did when she thought of you.” Her eyes grew red. Shaking her head, she reached out for the note. “Are you done with it? I’d like to have it back.”

Gendry placed the letter on the table. Lady Sansa grasped it quickly, gently folding it and tucking it into her sleeve. She rose and crossed the room. She turned to him before she left.

“Gendry,” she paused.

He kept his eyes down.

“Gendry, you need to be careful with the Dragon Queen. She legitimized you for a reason.”

“I know,” Gendry nodded. Of course, he knew why, and he knew why Lady Sansa brought it up now. He didn’t think about it all at the moment but that morning. He knew he was meant to be used but the joke was on the Dragon Queen. He’d respect her but his loyalties lied elsewhere if the choice had to be made.

“You’ll have to tread lightly. Her smiles seem sweet, but they’re laced with something. I won’t pretend I don’t know how to play the game myself, but some people lose sight of the bigger picture.”

“Yeah,”

“Thank you again for Arya. You brought her to life in those last few days.”

The mournful fondness in her voice as if Arya were already dead.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. He made oversaw the creation of weapons needed for the Unsullied and what has left of the Dothraki as well as the Northern troops that were well enough to go south. Then he was called to confer with the Queen in Winterfell’s library. He sat at one of the tables as she and her council sat in front of him and gave him instructions to go to Storm’s End. He listened and nodded along. His eyes glance down at the table and his heart clenched.

In the wood of the table were engraved six names, one of them Arya Stark. How old had she been when she carved those thin crooked letters into the table? Had she and her siblings done so over the years or did they gather one day and decide to leave their mark?

“I am sure you are eager to get on the road and go home.” The Queen’s voice broke his reverie.

“Storm’s End was never been home. I’m from Flea Bottom.”

“Just so. You will make it home.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “And we will be expecting you in King’s Landing, you’ll get a raven when we are close.”  
Gendry nodded.

So, he rode off with a small group of unsullied that spoke the common tongue. When he reached a hill with a perfect view of Storm End’s horizon, he felt numb. He took in the structure that appeared to rise from the sea along with tall, jagged rocks. It was raining so hard he could barely see, but somehow, he was led into the castle where the lords of the Stormlands greeted him. It was an easy ascension. The Stormlands had suffered long, especially at the hands of the Lannisters who took over after the alliance with Tyrells had broken. They looked at Gendry like he was a beacon of hope. A true Baratheon, strong and true finally come to lead them to glory. Gendry felt like a fraud.

“Lord Baratheon,”

Gendry glanced up. Stood before him a tall, lanky man with pale blonde hair and purple looking eyes.

“Dayne,” his lips formed the name, his eyes widening.

“Hello, there,” Lord Beric’s squire, former squire, gave him a friendly smile. “It’s been a long time.”

It had been. The last time Gendry saw Ned Dayne was somewhere on the King’s Road. Last he knew, Beric sent him on some errand a few days before the Red Woman.

“Look at you now,” he said, the friendly smile still on his face. Gendry used to hate that friendly smile, especially when it was at Arya.

“Yes, it’s been a long time,” Gendry replied.

“I’ve been helping out at Blackhaven, last we heard Lord Beric passed at a battle at Winterfell.”

“Yes, he did,” Gendry confirmed.

“I’m sorry to hear it. But you can count on Blackhaven for support. I’m not the acting lord but I know my aunt will want to help.”

“Thank you,”

“Do you know whatever happened to Lady Stark?”

“Arya?” Gendry’s voice cracked around her name.

“Yes,”

“She was at Winterfell.”

“Was she there when you were appointed to Storm’s End?”

“Yes,”

“I suppose we’ll be expecting her soon, then?”

“No,” Gendry blinked. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you were both so close when we were children. I figured a knighting or a lordship was what you would be waiting on to be together.”

“No, she’s not coming.”

“Oh, well. Whatever you need, my lord. I am your loyal servant.”

* * *

Gendry was finally left alone that night. The maester had shown him to the Lord’s chambers and left with a parting “And if I may say so, my Lord, it is a pleasure to have a true Baratheon in Storm’s End once more.”

Gendry knew he meant well, that they all meant well. But he felt so empty. It did not feel like a new adventure, but an obligation he got roped into.

A week later, a raven came, and Gendry led the armies of the Stormlands down to the Crownlands.

They were almost there. Gendry could feel it. They were still miles away, but Gendry could feel they were getting close. He noticed the sky darkening. Thick dark clouds. Was it going to rain?

“Gendry!”

His name, garbled and coarse, echoed across the hills. Gendry’s head whipped in all directions, searching. His eyes landed on a dark, bloodied figure riding a white horse.

“Gendry!”

His name rang out more clearly and the voice of the woman he loved filled his head. He held up his hand to signal the soldiers behind him to stop before taking off towards her. Arya.

The closer he got to her the more he could see her small form dirty and covered in blood. She was barely hanging on. When Gendry believed he could not spur his horse any further, he jumped off, sprinting the rest of the distance. He ran, his heart burning in his chest. By the time he reached her, she was already falling off to one side. Gendry quickly steadied the horse before catching Arya in his arms. She looked worse off than when he had seen her being carried after her killing the Night King.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

“I’ve got you,”

“She burned it all.”

Gendry looked up over her shoulder. The sky was darkening. Dark clouds of smoke were beginning to reach out over what should have been the King’s Landing horizon. A lump formed in Gendry’s throat.

Gathering Arya in his arms, he turned back to his horse. He made sure she was settled in the saddle before he jumped on behind her. She slouched back, her head falling against his chest. The smell of smoke and burnt hair filling his nose. He dug his heel in the horse and rode back to his army waited.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry makes sure Arya is taken care of and makes her a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to start the year right by finally posting an update. Between the semester, my depression, and a death in the family, the last few months have been tough and I haven't had the energy or inspiration to write. But with the New Year comes a New Hope (Star Wars!) and I am finally feeling those writing juices once again. For this fic, I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters, and then I have at least three other WIPs that are crying desperately for my attention. Thank you to everyone who has been following this story, I hope you enjoy. Leave comments below.

He rides back with Arya and instructs half his army to go down to the city to begin searching for survivors and refugees while the rest rode a few miles back with him to set up camp.

As the tents were raised and the soldiers began to prepare to receive survivors, Gendry carried Arya away into the forest. He found a quiet, creek and laid her down. She whimpered and groaned as her body settled into the soft ground. Gendry reached into the creek and began gathering handfuls of water to clean out her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Arya whimpered.

“Shh,” Gendry began to use water to clean her forehead.

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Seeming satisfied with this response, Arya laid her head back and allowed Gendry to clean as much filth off her as he could while they waited for his tent to be set up. She felt warm as if she were running a fever. Her clothing was torn, the end of her hair singed, and she whimpered with every breath she took. Gendry's stomach churned at the idea of what she must have been through to be in the state she was.

He didn’t know how long they were there for, huddled by the creek, Gendry gently rinsing her hair.

“My Lord!”

A soldier ran down the hill.

“Your tent is ready, my lord.”

Gendry nodded, moving to a crouch to lift Arya.

“Send a raven to Lady Sansa Stark in Winterfell, that her sister the Lady Arya is with me and safe. And make sure a healer is in my tent.”

“Yes, my lord.” The soldier ran back up the hill.

“Gendry,” Arya gasped as he lifted her up in his arms.

“Shh, I’ll make sure you get stitched up and get a bath.”

“You want me naked already?” She nuzzled his neck as she attempted the little joke, but Gendry couldn’t even crack a smile. He moved as quickly as he could to the tent erected at the far end of the camp. Two healers, a man, and a woman were already waiting when Gendry entered. He laid Arya down and was quickly shoved aside as the two healers began to undress her and examine her wounds. After the man prodded a spot on her ribs, Arya cried out and Gendry lunged forwards. He knocked the man against a stack of chests, raising to his height.

“You’re hurting her!”

“My lord, I have to examine her. The Lady is in immense pain and I dare say we have yet to see the worst of it. From what I can see, I can save her life, but you need to let me go.” The healer reasoned, gripping on Gendry’s shoulders in an attempt to soothe and push him away.

“Gendry,” Arya whimpered. Gendry quickly turned, releasing the healer, and fell to his knees. She was undressed now and being wiped of blood. Gendry could see bruises beginning to form, her right leg bent in the most unnatural way.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay.”

“Gendry, you have to help Jon. The Queen, she went mad.” Arya’s voice broke. Gendry raised his hand to cradler her face, but stopped him, grasping his hand to her chest instead. The white sheets that had been placed on the cot were slowly turning red.

“Baron, I think you should see this.” The female healer called out as she crouched between Arya’s legs.

Before Gendry could question what the healers saw, Arya squeezed his hand tighter.

“Gendry promise me, you’ll get Jon out of there” She pleaded. “Please, promise me.”

“I swear it,” Gendry squeezed her hand back. She gave him a little smile. Closing her eyes, she grunted as the healers attempted to examine her.

The man suddenly was in his eye line, crouching by Arya’s head. 

“My Lord was the Lady with child?” he asked. It took a moment. Gendry stared at the healer, mouth slightly open. Did he say, child? Was she with child?

“I... I don’t.”

The woman healer spoke up from between Arya’s legs, “It would have been early on, Baron. I reckon she doesn’t know.”

Gendry looked back at Arya’s face. It didn’t look like she heard. Her eyes were shut, her face scrunched up in pain. She kept her lips tight as if she were keeping from screaming. Always so strong, never wanting to be weak.

“My Lord, “a bannerman named Jovi ran into the tent. “The other half of our forces are coming back up.”

Gendry sighed.

“We’ll take care of her, my lord.” The woman healer gave him a reassuring smile. He nodded. He placed a light kiss on Arya’s forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll be back.” He rose to his feet and gathered his war hammer.

Gendry followed Jovi out a few yards from the camp. Gendry’s stomach dropped.

“Seven Hells,”

The smoke and fire were spreading, creating a black and orange hue around them. The other half of his men had returned along with hundreds of others. There was screaming. Where was the screaming coming from? And there were more. An entire procession covered in ash and blood came down over the hill, followed by more.

“What do we do, my lord?”

Gendry looked around to find that a small group of bannerman had surrounded him. He had to think quickly. That was Arya’s talent.

“As soon as the men get the refugees they escort settled, they go back down. Send a raven.”

“To which house, my lord?”

“All of them,” Gendry said as he looked out over the hills.

One of the first men Gendry saw was Ned Dayne. He was carrying to soot-covered children. The three of them were coughing and worn. Gendry approached him as he set the children to a healer.

“Dayne, I need you to go back down there with me. Arya’s brother is still down there, and we need to bring him out.”

He hated to make the man go back when he so obviously was exhausted, all the men were, but he was the only person Gendry felt he could trust who had been there and knew what laid there in King’s Landing.

“It’s madness down there.” Dayne shook his head, “If you can get past the fire and smoke, the rubble, the bodies. If he’s still alive, there’s little chance we could find him.”

“We’ll find him,” Gendry stood firm. Ned nodded wearily.

The closer they got the more Gendry’s eyes teared up. His chest burned as he breathed in the smoke. The walls had been burned down and before them laid hundreds of scorched bodies, it must have been the Golden company.

They left their horses by the entrance. Gendry’s feet led him through. They must have for nothing was clearly visible. Any landmarks, so many buildings were on fire or had crumbled apart. Ash fell around them like snow and covered the ground and bodies, burnt bodies were spread everywhere. The smell of their flesh made Gendry want to vomit.

At a certain point, Gendry stopped. Something was supposed to be here. He looked at piles of ash and a few fires that had not gone out yet. But something was supposed to be here. Then it hit him as if he had been punched in the gut.

“What is it?” Ned asked.

“This was my shop.” Gendry gestured to the rubble.

“I’m sorry,”

Gendry shook his head incredulously, “What in the seven hells happened here?”

They continued on. The Red Keep was in sight. Jon should be there. He was considered to be one of the Daenerys’s advisors, he had to be there now.

Sure enough, through the smoke, if Gendry squinted enough, he could make out soldiers in Stark armor.

“Jon!” he called out. “Jon!”

“Gendry!”

Jon appeared out of a thick cloud. Gendry gasped in relief. Jon rushed towards him. He grabbed onto Gendry desperately, a wild look on his face.

“Gendry, we need your men. We have to get as many people out of here as we can.”

“We’re working on it. You need to come with me.”

Jon shook his head, turning away, “No, I have to go to her. I have to go talk to Daenerys.”

Gendry pulled him back, “No, Jon you can’t.”

“I have to,”

“Arya is at my camp. She’s badly injured.”

Jon choked, “Arya? Wha- What was she doing here?”

“She had come to kill Cersei, got caught in the mess I found her riding out. Please, come on.” Gendry yanked on his arm. Jon said something to one of his soldiers and then followed.

When they made it back to camp, it was chaos. Survivors from King’s Landing and his men were scattered and running about. Gendry led Jon to his tent where the healer, Baron, waited for him outside the tent. 

“We reset her leg, she has some broken ribs, a lot of bruising and scrapes. But it looked far worse than it turned out to be, thank the Seven.”

Jon thanked the man and went inside.

“Thank you,” Gendry said.

“About the child,” Baron started, “Do you know who the father was?”

Father. Gendry lost his breath. Arya was pregnant. He was going to be a father. He would have been a father. It was gone.

“Yes,” he croaked. Baron nodded.

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to stress her any more than she has been, but it seems it was quite early on. The babe had not developed much.”

He looked through the open flap of the tent. Jon was kneeling by the cot now, stroking Arya’s hair. She looked so small, almost not real. “We’ll find a way to tell her when she’s stronger.”

“It goes without saying but you, of course, have our silence in this delicate matter.”

“Thank you,” Gendry said again. He entered the tent. Jon still kneeled at Arya’s bedside. He would tell her about the baby later after she had healed.

Jon looked up at him, “She’s asleep. Thank you for bringing her here.”

“I’ll have the healer come back to look you over.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m not hurt.”

They fell into silence for a moment, just listening to Arya’s small breaths. Gendry used to tell her she snored. But really it was always just small puffs of breath, but it always brought that pout to her face followed by her attempting to shove him.

Gendry finally broke the silence, “What happened down there?”

“The bells were ringing. We had won. But… but Daenerys kept. She started burning everything and her men started- “

“Arya said she went mad.”

“No, she- “Jon paused, “It has to be a misunderstanding. A person doesn’t just set off like that.”

“Everyone has their limits.”

“She’s good, she was good.”

Gendry scoffed.

“They all start out good. The Targaryens, my father, they were all good if the stories are to be believed. Good intentions. Good plans. But it all goes to shit one way or another. One too many failures, one too many deaths, one too many moments and it all ends.”

Silence again.

“I’m going back down there.” Gendry announced, “If you need me, send one of the soldiers down to Flea Bottom. That’s where I’ll be.”

“Are you looking for someone?”

Gendry shook his head. Everyone he cared about was in this room, “No, I didn’t have anyone there. I’m going to look for survivors.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A raven comes from Daenerys. Arya and Gendry have a long-needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a little more angsty than I had planned.   
> I blame myself for listening to Taylor Swift's Willow and All Through the Night from Sleeping at Last.

_To the Noble Houses of Westeros,_

_I, Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, summon the heads of each Household and their immediate heirs to present themselves to me at my coronation where you will be expected to swear fealty to me and the Targaryen throne. Should there be resistance, one may look towards House Tarly and House Lannister for direction._

_Furthermore, House Stark of Winterfell along with Tyrion Lannister is hereby accused of conspiring against the Crown. Lady Sansa, Lady Arya, and Lord Brandon Stark will be given a fortnight to surrender or be brought by force to stand trial. Any House or persons found or suspected of aiding House Stark will be subject to the Queen’s Justice._

_Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, Queen of Westeros._

The Queen’s raven had arrived early that morning. He had read it over multiple times before showing it to Jon, thinking of all it could mean but his mind just kept going to one thing.

“Why is she doing this?” Gendry asked, bewildered. “How has Arya conspired against her?”

“Because she knows the truth,” Jon answered, tossing the scroll on the table between them. “They all do.”

“What truth?”

Jon sighed. He rose up from his seat and began to pace the length of the tent.

“Ned Stark, though he claimed me and raised me, was not my true father.”

Gendry gasped, “How can that be?”

Jon paused as if gathering the strength to say what he needed to next, “Do you know about Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark?”

“I’ve heard stories,”

“Well, the stories aren’t all true. I don’t know what all the truth is still but what I do know is that Rhaegar Targaryen is my father and Lyanna Stark, a woman I was told was my aunt, was my mother. They ran away together and then the war happened and by the time my father found Lyanna, she was already dying of childbed fever. She made my fa- she made Ned Stark promise to take care of me.”

Gendry sat silently for a few moments, taking in the information. So much of what the world had been told was a lie. Jon's father, their fathers were not friends. They were enemies who fought over the same woman. Arya and Jon were not siblings.

“How long have you known?” Gendry asked, finally.

“Since just before the battle with the dead. I told Daenerys as well and my siblings afterward.”

Gendry took another moment.

“If you’re the son of the last Targaryen prince, you have a stronger claim than she does,” Gendry said putting the pieces together. “She thinks your family wants to put you on the throne. But she doesn’t name you.”

Jon stopped his pacing, leaning his hands on the table in the center of the room where the two of them had gathered, “I’ve tried to make it clear; I have no interest in the throne. I just need to talk to her.”

“You can’t,”

Both men’s heads turned to the partition that kept the bed hidden from the rest of the tent. Arya stood, her slightly disheveled hair loose around her shoulders, wrapping a blanket around herself.

Jon crossed the room to her.

“Arya you should be in bed,” he wrapped a hand around her arm ready to lead her back until she placed a hand on his chest.

“Jon, you can’t go. She’s mad, you can’t make her see sense.”

Jon shook his head, “You don’t know her,”

“Do you?” Gendry interjected. “Arya’s right.”

“She’s good.” Jon tried to reason, more to himself than with either of them. “She was good.”

Gendry felt sympathy for Jon, but he had to understand.

“Everyone has their breaking point, even someone good. Too many failures, too many losses, too many deaths, too many moments. Any one of them can push us over the edge.”

“Please Jon, stay here. Stay here until Sansa comes down from Winterfell, we can figure this out,” Arya pleaded. Jon hesitated.

“If I don’t go, she’ll be even more suspicious.”

“It doesn’t matter. If she makes a move against us, she will have not only the North but the Riverlands against her.”

“And the Stormlands,” Gendry added. He looked to Arya who gazed back at him with wide stormy eyes. “My allegiance is to the North. I’ll fight with you if it comes to that.”

“If it comes to that you may not have the men to help us.” Jon reasoned. “Daenerys will consider anyone aiding us a traitor. You would be stripped of your Lordship.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” Lord Selwyn Tarth announced as he entered the tent followed by Ned Dayne and Lord Estermont. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but we know of the Queen’s declaration and we couldn’t help but hear part of the conversation.”

The two elderly lords had welcomed him practically with open arms upon his arrival at Storm’s End. The other lords followed and in the few weeks Gendry spent at Storm’s End, though his heart ached from the separation from Arya, he began to be able to picture some semblance of what life could be like, though he knew it would never be truly fulfilling.

“The Stormlands will stand with you, my lord.” Lord Estermont declared, “We don’t need whoever sits on the Iron Throne to tell us who to follow. We choose you, my Lord.”

Behind him, Ned Dayne gave him a small nod. Gendry, despite probably being the most reluctant Lord the Stormlands have ever had, felt a sense of pride.

“It’s settled then.”

* * *

“You really should be in bed,” Gendry approached Arya later in the day. He found her sitting in the grass only a yard or so away from the tent, looking out at the sun as it set.

She pouted, “I’m tired of staying in bed all day, it’s almost been a week.”

“You need to build your strength back up,”

“I’m plenty strong,” Arya huffed. Gendry smiled, he held out his hand, not making a comment on how quickly she took it or how she faltered slightly as she stood. They walked back to the tent and Gendry sat her down in the closest chair.

“You’re the strongest person I know but even you need time to recover after almost being trampled and burned to death.”

Arya scoffed, waving him off, “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”

Gendry couldn’t help it. Her nonchalant tone triggered him.

“It is worse, Arya!” He exclaimed. “You lost-“

Gendry stopped himself. He looked at Arya, watching her eyes soften. He was yelling at her, why was she looking at him like that? Gendry bit his tongue and looked out towards the horizon.

“What?” She asked. Gendry looked away. “Tell me, Gendry.”

“The healers when they were helping you, they saw,” Gendry stopped, searching for the right words. But how could he tell her when he was still trying to come to terms with it himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, “They saw that you were losing a child. You lost a child, Arya.”

Arya’s lips parted, the smallest gasp escaping her. Gendry stood planted in the same spot. He wanted to fall to his knees before her. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn’t know if doing so would break her. She sat still, her gaze down, her hands twitched slightly in her lap.

“I knew,” she said, finally. “I mean I suspected. I felt sick a day or two before we got to King’s Landing. The thought crossed my mind, but I pushed it aside as quickly as it came.”

“I’m so sorry, Arya.”

She looked up at him, her mouth quirked as if wanting to offer him a small reassuring smile, but it came out more of a grimace, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Gendry.”

Gendry felt he should say something, felt he should ask, “How… Are you…”?

“I don’t know how to feel about it.” Arya answered his unformed question, “As I said, I didn’t let myself think about it, I had no attachment.”

Gendry nodded. He supposed he understood. How could a person mourn or yearn for something they never really knew they had? Still, Gendry couldn’t help but notice how her hand seemed to hover slightly over her womb.

“I suppose it gives me hope,” She said, a contemplative look on her face.

“What do you mean?” Gendry kneeled before her, placing a hand on her knee.

“I didn’t know if I could have children.”

“Your scars?” Gendry asked. Arya nodded.

“Mmm, they’re not really in the right spot but yes. Along with years of being malnourished and training and fighting. The body can only handle so much. I heard someone in a brothel say how even if you lose a babe, not to lose hope because at least you can become with child and that is sometimes the hardest part of the trick. So, at the very least, if I decide I want children I know it’s a possibility.” A small smile graced her face. “My choice in that hasn’t been taken from me.”

Gendry moved his hand, rubbing her leg soothingly. They let a silence fall between them. Arya leaned down, placing a hand on the back of his neck, bringing their foreheads together.

“Gendry, I- “Arya bit her lip. Gendry felt his stomach flip. Their lips were so close together.

“I better go and see if Jon needs me,” Arya said abruptly. She pushed off his shoulders and rose to her feet, leaving Gendry on his knees.

He got up quickly, moving to block her from the tent’s entrance.

“Arya,” he started but there was so much to say and Gendry had no idea what to say first.

“What?” Arya asked. Gendry stood there, mouth agape. “What Gendry?” she asked, again raising her voice.

Gendry stuttered, “I…I…”

Arya groaned. She turned away, running her hands through her hair.

“Gods why are you here?” she shouted, turning back to him. She gritted her teeth; her cheeks were red, and her grey eyes filled with tears. It was the most emotion he had seen from her since they were together on the road since he cleansed her broken body by the creek just a week ago. Just like those instances, she seemed to have no control. “Why did you go to Winterfell?”

“I followed your brother,” he answered. It was the simplest one he could give.

“Why?” she cried out, sounding desperate. Gendry’s throat closed as tears began to fall freely from her face. “Why did you have to follow him? Why did you have to come back? You wrecked everything! I had everything planned out and I was fine. I was doing fine and then you just come back into my life, looking at me like I always wanted you to. You had no right.”  
“I know,” Gendry croaked.

“Why?” Arya breathed out.

“I don’t know,” Gendry said. It was an honest answer. And with that small honesty, the flood gates opened. “Everything in my life was always leading to you. Your father had me travel with the Night’s Watch and your brother became a friend to me and you. You’re the only person I’ve ever given a damn about. You are the only one I could ever trust. And I kept thinking of all the reasons why we couldn’t be together. I kept thinking of how the world would accept me being with you. But I don’t care anymore. I love you. I love you more than I have any right to. I’ll be with you any way I can. I’ll take whatever I can get. Whatever you want. My land, my hammer, my life, it’s all yours. I love you.”

A moment passed. Then Arya launched herself at him. Gendry wrapped his arms around her small frame, their lips crashing against each other. Arya’s hands found their way to his shoulders, his hair. Gendry groaned against Arya’s mouth, pressing against her body as much as he could without breaking her.

“I love you.” Arya gasped out, breaking away for breath. “I’ve always loved you, Gendry.”

Gendry took her face in his hands.

“Whatever happens, wherever you go, I’ll be with you.”

Arya nodded, “I’ll allow it.”

Gendry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Thank you, m’lady.”

Arya smiled, closing her eyes as Gendry continued leaving little kisses along her face and Gendry felt his heart warm at the look of peace on her face.


End file.
